


First Day

by thestairwell



Series: Power and Responsibility [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Flirting, Humour, M/M, Rivalry, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestairwell/pseuds/thestairwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitten Boy and the Llamanator are arch nemeses. Meanwhile, Blaine meets a really cute guy at his new school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I started planning back in September '12, obviously after Kitten Boy spoilers but before 4.04 spoilers, and then I started writing it for NaNoWriMo (2012). But then I quickly realised that my plot was far too light on the superhero and comedy and too heavy on the drama so I abandoned it. However, I still really like how what I've written came out so I'll publishing bits and pieces should anyone be interested in it. :)  
> A sort of crossover with the Marvel Cinematic Universe (for now - might expand to the Marvel universe in general).  
> And yeah, the title is totally from that Spiderman quote.

“I wondered when you would show up. What took you so long? Did you get distracted by the catnip I left you?”

His arch nemesis smirked from his position behind the Mayor and Kitten Boy almost pouted. His name had been fine before, when most of what he did was stopping muggings or helping children find missing pets. It was cute and unassuming and helped people in trouble feel safe. Who would be scared of a kitten? (Also, he had been fifteen. He felt that necessary to point out.) Now, however, he had a mortal enemy who seemed to have a new mocking quip every time they met and it was really starting to bug him.

He took a little comfort from the fact that his nemesis called himself _the Llamanator_. Llamas were hardly scary creatures, and when he was particularly frustrated, Kitten Boy pretended his enemy was taking inspiration from Doctor Doofenshmirtz because that meant he would always win.

He got frustrated quite a lot. There weren't many witty retorts he could make about llamas. He'd used up all the spitting-related puns by the end of their first meeting, and all his internet research had revealed was that llamas were damn awesome animals. Admittedly, he could have taunted the Llamanator about lacking a herd, but Kitten Boy was a gentleman at heart and making fun of loneliness wasn't gentlemanly in the slightest.

But it was hard to remember his morals when he'd just spent the last half hour trying to figure out what _top hat at the end of the hotline – hurry up, Buttercup!_ meant he had to go to the mayor's office, and he'd dropped in through the open window to find the mayor in a top hat and his underwear with thin lines across his body where the Llamanator had probably run his sai swords. It didn't look like the man was actually bleeding, but the tears and snot on his face meant he was either still in lots of pain or had a low threshold.

(Kitten Boy's parents knew the mayor. He had a low pain threshold. He was actually a bit of a wimp, if Kitten Boy were being honest.)

“What are you hoping to get out of this?” he demanded as he pushed out his shield to surround the mayor. The Llamanator probably wouldn't have hurt him again now that Kitten Boy was here, and the villain hadn't killed or seriously injured anyone so far, but he didn't want to risk it

The shield glittered as it moulded to the mayor's shape, and the Llamanator pouted dramatically.

“Aw, what's so wrong with a little payback?” He poked one of his swords against the shield and the mayor whimpered. The Llamanator sighed. “Oh, well. Now that you've spoiled my fun, I guess it's time for me to go.”

Kitten Boy's eyes widened and he started forward as the Llamanator sheathed his sai and moved a small video camera from the desk to his utility belt. Kitten Boy started to extend his shield around his nemesis to trap him inside, but the Llamanator dodged out of the way, vaulted over Kitten Boy's shoulders and launched himself to the window frame. He crouched on the sill and grasped the edge with one hand as he turned back round to look at Kitten Boy, who found himself struggling to remember how to swallow at the Llamanator's lean muscles and coy smirk.

“See you soon, darling,” he said, blowing Kitten Boy a wink and a kiss before jumping out the window and activating one of his many gadgets to propel himself to the roof, giving Kitten Boy a rather nice view of his legs.

Sometimes, Kitten Boy really wished his arch nemesis had been a girl. None of the superheroes in New York had to worry about being attracted to their arch nemeses.

*

When Blaine Anderson was fourteen years old, he was attacked for going to a school dance with another boy. He threw himself in front of his date and, by all rights, he should have been beaten to a bloody pulp and at least suffered from mild brain damage.

He ended up with a broken nose and a small number of bruises on his arms, stomach and jaw, and his date was hardly hurt at all. The four senior athletes who had attacked them couldn't pay their respective sports for the rest of their seasons because all their knuckles were broken. All six of them were suspended for a week for 'fighting on school grounds' and, since a popular senior's opinion was apparently worth more than a bullied freshman's, and neither of the freshmen had ended up in hospital, the administration refused to acknowledge that a hate crime had occurred on school grounds. When Blaine's went to the police, they basically told him that, since his powers had kicked in and said power seemed to be invulnerability, he clearly didn't need their help. He tried to push, telling the inspector that it was being attacked that triggered his abilities, but he was told, in very polite terms, to fuck off.

His parents were absolutely no help at all. They were very conservative people, believing that abilities were given by some higher power for some higher purpose, and people with powers were meant for great things. Unfortunately, Blaine was also gay, and that both negated his abilities and made his parents somewhat ashamed of having him as a son.

His father also had some very choice things to say about the uselessness of Blaine's brand of powers. What good was invulnerability, or heightened senses, or increased agility? They weren't 'manly' powers in the slightest.

The inaction to his assault and the lack of support from his parents made him frustrated enough, but when he returned to school to find everyone avoiding him or whispering at him or just looking at him as if he were a piranha in a fish tank – including the few friends he had, including the date whom he'd somehow managed to protect – because the rumour was he was _dangerous_ now, he found himself constantly angry and increasingly bitter and jaded. He was also so incredibly lonely.

In the end, it was his older brother who got something done, and even if it wasn't what Blaine really wanted, he'd happily take what he could get. Between hour-long monologues about how Los Angeles was so much better than New York, Cooper convinced their parents that a transfer would do Blaine and the family some good. Two days later, Blaine was transferred to Dalton Academy for Boys, a private school in a city an hour away from Lima, and two days after that, Cooper left again for LA. Blaine didn't know if his brother knew he'd developed powers, or even if he'd been attacked.

Dalton was good for Blaine. He organised weekly meetings with the guidance counsellor and took up boxing to control his anger. Soon after, he took up fencing to hone his agility even further, even though the only people at Dalton who knew about his powers were the principal and guidance counsellor. He also joined the a cappella show choir. By the end of his sophomore year, Blaine had worked out his anger, was the lead soloist for the Warblers, had a number of boxing and fencing championships, and was one of the most popular boys in the school.

By the end of his sophomore year, Blaine had been Kitten Boy for three months, and Kitten Boy was steadily getting more and more media attention in Allen County.

The idea had started off as a joke. Blaine liked helping people, he was eager, he was friendly, he had lots of energy. So, when they'd been assigning everyone superhero (or supervillain) identities, they said Blaine would be a hero and then made a Scooby Doo joke. And Blaine hadn't been able to let the idea go. He wouldn't be a dog, of course – but his powers were quite reminiscent of felines, even if Blaine didn't always land on his feet.

Kitten Boy was greatly loved and occasionally mocked. He was charming and polite, and he managed to convince most of the adults he came across that he was older than he actually was. He actually acted like a kitten for the cutest children, but for everyone else he quickly developed a show smile.

The Llamanator didn't appear until about halfway through Blaine's junior year. He mostly committed thefts from businesses and banks, taking their money or whatever they kept in their warehouses. He'd once set fire to a police station (the very one, in fact, which had turned Blaine away, and he couldn't help but feel a little bit smug about not being able to save the entire building).

They didn't become true arch nemeses, despite being the only two supers around (if the Llamanator could be considered a 'super' without actually having powers), until a few weeks into the summer holiday, when the Llamanator set up a series of clues which led Kitten Boy on a wild goose chase around the city worried for the welfare of orphans while the Llamanator broke into a factory, damaged the machinery, got Kitten Boy's cape caught in a broken conveyor belt and then left with a sensuous smirk and a very clever line.

That was also, coincidentally, the day Kitten Boy realised that the Llamanator had very pretty lips and particularly attractive biceps.

Over the months, Blaine got better at figuring out the Llamanator's clues. Most of the time. He would still get stumped every now and then, and those were the days his adversary would get away with no problem greater than a security system.

He probably would have come to enjoy the Llamanator's opposition eventually – after all, it wasn't like he was killing anyone or sending people to hospital with serious injuries, there were much worse villains in New York – if his parents hadn't told him that his senior year would have to be spent at a public high school in Lima because they just couldn't afford Dalton's fees any more.

It wasn't a complete lie. After all, their parents needed the money to pay for an extra cruise holiday Blaine wasn't allowed to go on.

His father was probably exhausted with worrying that one day his son would bring home a boyfriend anyway.

And the Llamanator got in the way of his moping and his hanging out with his friends while they were all still free and in Ohio, since seventy percent of his friends were going to college and he wouldn't have much time to visit everyone else when school began again. So, instead of rising to the challenge and pretending to be the next Captain America or Hawkeye, he rose to the challenge and tried not to grouch too obviously in a way that the Llamanator would exploit.

That summer was the first time he wished he'd never become a superhero.

*

Blaine wasn't expecting much from William McKinley High School: brainless jocks, bitchy cheerleaders, clear-cut cliques, nerds and geeks at the bottom of the social food chain, collectively low intelligence and tolerance. Especially after Dalton, he wasn't expecting to be challenged in class.

His first impression proved his assumptions spot on. The corridors were a mass of disorganised chaos. Some of the students wearing varsity jackets actually pushed other students out of the way, and Blaine wasn't surprised to look around and see no teachers guarding the hallway.

When he'd come to this school with his parents a couple of days before school started again, to complete his enrolment and get his schedule and locker details, Blaine had taken the initiative to explore the school and get his bearings, and he'd poked his head into the Spanish teacher's office to make an audition for the Glee club. He was really glad he'd done so now – it meant he didn't have to risk talking to the wrong person to ask for directions, he didn't waste time studying a map, and he managed to arrive at the choir room when there were only about half a dozen members inside.

“Are you lost?”

Blaine looked at the piano and then back at the guy who had spoken. “This is the choir room, right? I have an audition . . .”

The guy looked him up and down and Blaine might have thought he was being checked out if it he didn't feel like the mohawked boy was looking for signs of weakness.

“You any good, half pint?”

“I like to think so,” Blaine answered at the same time a girl marched into his personal space and hurled at him: “Who are you? Are you here to audition? Just so you know, we deal with spies harshly. Puck's been to juvie and Lauren Zizes is a wrestling champion.”

“I'm—”

“Put your beak away, Berry, we don't need you running more potential members out of the school, especially when they look so delicious.”

A dark-haired cheerleader who'd just entered the room smirked at Blaine and definitely checked him out, and Blaine was a little scared because she looked like she was looking for signs of weakness as well. He was beginning to wonder if joining Glee would be worth it – not even the Llamanator made him feel so intimidated.

“Tone it down, Santana,” another voice came laughingly from the doorway. “You'll scare him off and then we'll be another man down.”

Blaine looked over, following the conversation in the hopes that things might start making sense. Some far off corner of his mind registered the girl who'd spoken and the continuing insults being thrown around the room, but the rest of his attention was on the boy whose arm was linked with the girl's. He was, to put it simply, drop dead gorgeous – artfully styled hair, clear, pale skin, an all-black ensemble of skinny jeans and vest accessorised with white Doc Martens and a ring of keys dangling from his collar. From this distance, Blaine couldn't pick out his eye colour, but the way they shone was so similar to Blaine's shield that he almost checked himself to make sure he hadn't extended it accidentally.

“I'm gay,” he said. The room went silent, the boy's eyes widened as a blush stained his cheeks and ears pink, and Blaine snapped his head back round to look at the rest of the occupants. “Blaine. I'm Blaine. Anderson. I'm new.”

The stunning boy's friend snorted and dragged him to sit down. The room had mixed reactions – the cheerleader and the boy with the mohawk smirked at each other, there were a few laughs and titters, a couple of the girls actually _aww_ ed, which hadn't happened to him out of his costume since he was about five, most of the others looked disconcertingly satisfied and the really tall guy looked a bit uncomfortable, but no one looked like they wanted to beat him up. Blaine shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly and felt his face heat up.

Fortunately, Mr Schuester arrived a few moments later, so Blaine didn't have time to start wondering if he should sit down and if so, where should he sit, and how he really hoped the mystery boy was gay as well because he'd never known a straight guy to wear such tight jeans.

“Blaine, I see you found your way!” Mr Schuester grinned and gripped Blaine's shoulders as he addressed the group, “New Directions, this is Blaine Anderson. He just transferred from – what was it, Dalton?”

Blaine smiled, trying not to cringe away from the teacher's grip. “Yeah. I was a member of the show choir there so I was hoping I could join your group.” The short fruity girl's eyes narrowed at him. “I have a song prepared, if that's okay.”

Mr Schuester let go of his shoulders to grab a stool, giving Blaine the floor. He started to turn to the pianist to tell him his song selection, but somehow he already knew. That almost made Blaine miss his cue but a lifetime of performances with Cooper ensured he didn't.

The song he'd chosen was upbeat and catchy, by one of his favourite artists. It was a good number to move to, to encourage his audience to dance along if they wanted, and Blaine could sing it in his sleep. It was a little strange to be singing this song without the a cappella power of the Warblers behind him, but they'd practised it so much that he still dreamt about it sometimes.

Now, he was especially glad he'd chosen it, because in between spins and the instinctive glances behind for his missing friends, singing a love song meant he got to flirt outrageously with the gorgeous guy while not making a huge fool out of himself.

It was working, too. The boy's blush darkened and, although his lips were pressed together, his eyes almost glowed. In his periphery, Blaine could see some of the other members out of their seats and dancing together, so as Blaine began the second verse, he dared to step closer and held out his hand. The boy's eyes widened, and he was suddenly jolted out of his seat by his friend. A smile spread across his face as he took Blaine's hand, and then Blaine led them in a simple one-step dance.

The boy smelt wonderful, lightly sprayed cologne and scented hairspray and coconut body wash, and his eyes were a kaleidoscope of bright blue and cool grey and flecks of hazel. Blaine only managed to keep up with the words by switching on autopilot.

He had to let him go at the chorus, passing him off to his friend, so he jumped on the boy's chair instead and sent him a sultry expression, which made an embarrassed, cute, toothy smile spread across the boy's face.

He finished the song back on the ground with a heel turn and, but for the girl who accused him of being a spy and the tall boy who had looked uncomfortable at Blaine's coming out, the room burst into applause. Blaine grinned around at everyone, ending with the boy, and Mr Schuester moved back into the centre of the floor.

“Wow, that was excellent, Blaine! Welcome to the New Directions!”

Blaine slowly followed his new team mates to their seats. Should he sit next to the boy? It was fairly obvious to everyone in the room that he was already crushing on him, and it looked like it was entirely welcome, but sitting so close while Blaine didn't even know his name could come across as presumptuous or cocky if he just assumed.

So he sent the boy a wink and then took a chair in the row in front of him and slightly at a diagonal. This was a safe compromise: it let the boy know that he was very much interested while still being respectful of personal boundaries.

Glee passed in a bit of a blur, despite Blaine's best efforts to pay attention. For the first five minutes or so, he listened as Mr Schuester gave a pep talk about reaching Nationals this year and getting more members, but then the boy and his friend started whispering behind him. About him, and his clothes, and his flirting, and his sexuality, and his hair, and his butt.

It was all very distracting. He had never been so happy to have such sensitive senses, including that time he rescued a child who had somehow got stuck on the roof of a hospital.

When the bell rang, Blaine made a show of getting his timetable and map out of his bag, even though he knew both what his lesson was and how to get there. If he was ungodly lucky, he would be in the same class as the boy and they could walk together.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the entire club was waiting for one of them to make a move. They weren't even being sneaky in their staring, and the longer Blaine pretended to figure out how to get from the choir room to his Chemistry lab, the more awkward the atmosphere became. Eventually, he folded his papers, replaced them in his bag and looked up. Everyone met his eyes without an inch of shame, and he felt his face heat up. A quick glance behind him revealed that the boy was also bright red but looking away, and his friend looked exasperated.

“Did you transfer here to infiltrate our group and give our set list to your Dalton?” the small girl from before demanded.

“Uh, no, I transferred because my parents can't afford the school fees any more. And they're called the Warblers.”

The girl continued looking at him suspiciously so he gave her a charming smile.

“Ignore Rachel,” said the gorgeous boy's friend. He forced himself to actually look at her, because one thing Blaine was not was rude. She had dark skin and an absolutely fantastic taste in accessories – he'd never met someone before who could pull of such chunky, colourful jewellery. “She got burned by a spy from Vocal Adrenalin a couple of years ago because she wouldn't listen to us and now she doesn't trust outsiders.”

Blaine nodded, flicked his eyes to the boy before looking at the girl – Rachel – and then assured her, “The Warblers are an honourable group. Even if I were to pass them information, they'd never use it.”

“Satisfied?” the girl directed to Rachel, who stuck her chin up and responded with a strong 'no'. “I'm Mercedes,” she told Blaine, “and this is Kurt.”

Blaine once again slid his eyes to Kurt and grinned a bit too eagerly as he held out his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kurt returned, putting his soft hand in Blaine's again. His voice was breathy and musical, like the higher range of a grand piano. “You're very talented. Your audition was Gene-Kelly fabulous.”

Blaine's grin grew. Gene Kelly had been Blaine's idol growing up. “Thanks!” He drew in a deep breath and asked, “Would you mind showing me where my next class is?”

“Is that why you spent so long looking your map?” the guy with the mohawk asked with a scoff, and Blaine almost jumped. He'd forgotten about his audience.

“Dammit, Puckerman. Ruining the hottest thing I've ever seen is _not_ the way to stay in my pants.”

“Come on, I'll take you,” Kurt said quickly, changing his grip on Blaine's hand to hurriedly pull him out of the room. Blaine almost left his bag behind, but after an almost-stumble he caught up with the other boy. Once they were out in the hallway, Kurt slowed down and let go of Blaine's hand, leaving him feeling cold. “So what do you have?”

“Chemistry,” he replied, winking at Kurt, who blushed. “With, um – I'm in Mrs Lehrman's class. But, uh.” He cleared his throat. “I actually – I already know how to get there. I mean, when I had the meeting with Principal Figgins, I looked around the school a bit, and I studied the map, so I know how to get to all my classes.” He was spiralling into a rambling mess and he couldn't stop, and the longer it went on, the more embarrassed he got. At least it was helping Kurt to relax. “I just wanted to talk to you without ...” He trailed off and gestured behind them to the choir room. Kurt laughed, his eyes sparkling and his cheeks still a bit pink.

“The New Directions can be a bit overwhelming,” Kurt conceded. Blaine laughed.

“It's definitely an adjustment from the Warblers.”

“That was your old show choir?” Blaine nodded. “What are they like?”

Blaine smiled, mostly to himself. “It's an a cappella choir. The club's been instated for almost two hundred years.” Kurt raised his eyebrows and Blaine nodded in amusement. “Dalton's a very old school, and the Warblers are one of its oldest traditions, though most of our repertoire was—” He broke off. “I probably shouldn't be telling you this. For all I know, that Rachel girl sent you to get Warbler secrets out of me,” he teased.

“Your information would be outdated. Sorry to disappoint you.” Kurt sent him another wide, toothy smile, and Blaine grinned in return.

They reached Blaine's classroom and, instead of going straight in, Blaine fiddled with the strap of his satchel and lingered outside. He looked between Kurt and his classroom, trying not to bite his lip.

“So, uh – save me a seat at lunch?” he eventually asked, and Kurt's shoulders relaxed a little.

“If you can beat Mercedes to the cafeteria.”

Blaine laughed. “Tell Mercedes it's on!” he said. He took a hesitant step backwards, and then forced himself to give Kurt another wink, said, “I'll see you at lunch,” and entered the classroom.


End file.
